Another Woman's Man
by E's My Brand Of Heroin
Summary: Bella and Rose start their own less than reputable business.  They work hard to make a name for themselves and occasionally do some jobs that they never dreamed they would.  How are they going to meet some nice boys if their job is to meet the dirty ones?


**I'm soooo late! Thank Emmy for her picsperation for this tiny drabble and for allowing me to still post. I want to write a little more on it, but the week just got away from me.**

**As always, the characters are not mine, the inspiration is Emmy's, but the story line belongs to me. Enjoy!**

**Xo, E's**

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><p>My line of work was by no means my first choice. The client's paid pretty well though and my partner and I could really pick and choose the clientele we chose to work with. Plus, with Rosalie's brother coming to work for us, it made our jobs that much easier, and in some ways, more individual. Of course, Jasper didn't thrill at the idea of taking shots of Rosalie half nude, but the money helped settle his conscience.<p>

I won't pretend that I really had a head for business, and, although Rose liked to pretend she could do anything, she didn't either. Her plan had always been to meet and marry well, have a couple kids, and go all Jersey house wife on me. That plan failed. Obviously, or we wouldn't be here in Connecticut. We were lucky enough to travel into The City fairly often, and with The Maury show here now, we got extra money as "consultants" for some of his shows. It's not that the work we did was illegal, it was just… less than savory, and I didn't relish telling people about it. But I was my own boss, and for two girls with only high school diplomas, we were doing pretty well.

Rose walked in just then and threw her "night bag" on the chair in our cozy office. She pulled the pins out of her hair and blew her bangs from her face.

"Really Rosalie? His tie in your mouth? I couldn't even get a clear shot of his face." Jasper rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Why don't you just go into modeling? I'll take some pictures—with your clothes on this time—and even help you submit some. We're close to the city, you could easily get to some go-see's."

Rose shook her hair loose and scratched at her scalp. I felt mine prickle knowing the feeling of the constant "work" updo. I was a ponytail and jeans kind of girl, but the people paying us expected a little more. We could get more work if Jasper would be willing to use some of his natural charm, but he felt taking pictures of cheating husbands and boyfriends was degrading enough. I rolled my eyes thinking of how Jasper had bemoaned the idea of coming to work for us. But as he had pointed out in his email to his sister before moving here, despite their claims, Corcoran University was not exactly handing out jobs to the photojournalism majors. He had planned on landing something with National Geographics and heading to foreign lands to document the world's strife in pictures.

"Okay, A," Rose held up her hand to tick off her coming explanation, "at 24, I'm waaaay too old to start modeling, B, I'd still have to do this job to make actual money, and C, I'd rather get my pic taken with hottie Wall Street dudes banging the secretary, then holding up a cup of juice for my fake child in some lame commercial." As long as her fingers were on display, she checked her manicure.

She was constantly mocking me for not getting my nails and hair professionally done. I was always neatly manicured and properly coiffed for my "dates," but I didn't see a reason to shell out more money for a part I played. Despite my totally awkward personality in social situations, (yes, I knew, it didn't need to be pointed out to me) I was very comfortable when I was on a job. I didn't feel like _me_. I could be _anyone_. I could be seductive and poised. I could have a college education in arts and literature (wait, was that a category for Trivial Pursuit?) or a fully stamped passport with the remains of exotic dust on it. I actually was many of those things when I was working. Depending on what the guy was into, I could be all manner of things. I told myself I was honing my acting skills.

Rose and I still weren't friends, but we were closer than when we had started the business. At least we had a common goal and I had "shown my worth" to Rose when I allowed that creepy pediatrician to touch me under my dress in the elevator. He hiked it up over my ass and just as he was about to finger me—dirty shiver—I hit the emergency stop button and Rose popped in to snap the picture. I didn't normally go so far for my work, but after that, Rose knew I was willing to do anything for our budding business.


End file.
